And now the old forest singer also is silent. His life and death have
been like a beautiful wild-rose in the wilderness.
It has given me much pleasure to write out his strange sayings, and I
will here record his end.
Up on the Breitsteinalm Kropfjodel owns a herdsman's hut. And here
during the summer live two of his irrepressible sons, who look after the
cattle and, to pass away the time, perpetrate all sorts of mischief.
Ruepel had been staying with the lads of late, and had entertained them
greatly with his songs and his straw harp. The old man had now become
entirely demented and, with his failing sight, was pitiable indeed.
This was just what amused the lads, who made him the butt of all their
jests; and he did not dislike it, being glad to make himself serviceable
in any way, realising that he was no longer of use to other people.
In the evening he always returned to the hut, where he was given food
and allowed to sleep upon the hay-mow.
Early one morning old Ruepel was sitting before the door upon a stone,
damp with dew, playing upon his straw harp, at the same time turning his
weary eyes up toward the morning glow on the rocks. Suddenly a wild yell
resounded in his ears. He started in terror, and saw the two boys
standing beside him, laughing. The old man looked at them with a
good-natured smile.
"Have you been threshing straw, Ruepel?" Veit asks, pointing to the
strange harp-strings.
"And so early!" adds Klaus.
The old man turns, and holding his hand to his lips, he whispers
confidentially: "Don't you know the proverb old? The morning's mouth is
filled with gold."
"You don't mean it!" Klaus replies sneeringly. "Then its teeth will not
last long!" The shepherd-lads shout with laughter at this foolish joke.
"Up there is gold, up there!" And the old man tremblingly points to the
glowing cliffs.
"Yes, Ruepel, you are right!" Veit answers seriously; "that is really
gold; why don't you climb up and scrape it off?"
Ruepel looks at them in surprise.
"You might get a whole basketful, and perhaps more!" Klaus urges; "then
you would be able to build yourself a golden castle, and buy a golden
table, and golden wine, a golden harp, and a golden wife!"
"A golden harp!" murmurs Ruepel, his eyes glittering. He passes his
hand over his brow. He himself had first spoken of the golden morning,
but only in the figurative sense of the proverb--and now, could it
really be true?
"And this straw you can put in the manger for Grassteiger's donkey!"
cries the impudent Veit.
This contempt for his harp causes a shadow to fall upon the countenance
of the old man.
"My harp, leave that alone, I say; do not make fun of it, I pray."
These words only irritated the youthful tormentors. "I 'll show you how
to play upon this harp!" Veit answered, passing his hand over the
strings, and breaking them in pieces with a rattling noise. The lads
then darted away.
The old man sat a while motionless. He stared at the broken harp, wiped
his eyes with both hands, and endeavoured to arouse himself from his
dream; he could not believe that it was true. His only possession, his
all, they had ruined--his harp.
Not until the sun was shining brightly on the rocks above did he raise
his white head. He hung the bent branch with the broken straw over his
shoulder, gazed up at the cliffs, all radiant with light, and with
faltering steps tottered away toward the precipice, over which the water
fell and rippled, looking in the sunshine like liquid gold.
On the evening of the same day the two shepherd-lads were once more
merrily performing their household tasks before the hearth of their hut.
They made themselves flour dumplings, which they called _foxes_, because
they fried them until they were brown. The herd had been gathered in
from the fields, and was now safe in the stalls.
The lads were always gay, but particularly so on holiday nights. When
the old harpist was at home, they teased him; if he was not there, they
teased each other. On this day Ruepel was still absent, so Klaus sprang
like a monkey upon Veit's shoulders, rode upon his neck, his legs
hanging down in front, and cried: "Donkey, who is riding?" and Veit
retorted: "One donkey rides another."
Thus the lads amused themselves. Then they ate their dumplings, and
with the soot from the pan painted mustaches on their faces. They
already aspired to whiskers, and if they only could kiss some young
girl, that, according to the proverb, would encourage the growth.
Ruepel, they think, might spin silver strings for the harp from his long
beard.
The old man had not yet arrived; could the joking in the morning have
offended him?--The boys did not like to talk about it. They felt a
slight remorse, and so, putting a piece of dumpling into a wooden bowl,
they placed it upon Ruepel's bed in the hay-mow. In doing this, they
were again seized with a mischievous idea; they barricaded the place
with rakes and pitchforks. Now, when the old man returned, he would
bump his nose and grumble until at last he came upon the dumpling, which
would requite him for all the rest.
On this night the boys slept particularly well. And when they awoke the
bright sunbeams were already peeping through the cracks in the wall.
But the old man's bed was still barricaded with rakes and pitchforks,
and the food remained untouched.
Klaus went to the herd in the stall; Veit left the house. And what a
glorious day it was! The fields and the woods were fresh, bright, and
laden with dew, and the morning air had kissed the clouds from the sky.
A bird was warbling gaily upon the gable of the hut, and the brook
splashed merrily into the trough.
Veit went to the spring. The mountaineers like so well to bathe their
hands and faces in the cold water, which causes all drowsiness to
disappear and the eyes and heart to become bright--bright as the young
day. Veit industriously combed his dishevelled locks with his fingers,
and held both hands under the spout.--How comforting is the cool,
trickling water, Veit!--But in the stream a blood-red thread was
spinning itself, which swam and curled, forming little rings in the
hollow of his hand. Frightened, the lad withdrew his hands and gazed
into the water, until more threads and filaments appeared, twined and
merged into one another, then separated and scattered.
Veit hastened into the stall: "Klaus, come quick; there is something
strange in the water to-day!"